As the saying goes, man plans, but fate decides.
Rein had staked out the wall for days, triple-checking it was deserted—until, out of nowhere, a young guy showed up.
The kid wore an ill-fitting uniform, his expression stern.
It was his first day "on the job."
In this era of peace, few volunteered to be soldiers—especially for a cushy gig like the Garrison's wall duty. Fresh blood was rare after so many years.
But this kid was different. He had big dreams: to become an exceptional soldier, maybe even join the brutal Survey Corps someday.
Still, every path starts with a single step. His first task as a rookie? Guarding this barren stretch of wall.
The kid paced atop the wall with stiff respect, while Rein crept up inch by inch below.
Neither knew the other was there.
Not until the kid reached that lone cannon.
Maybe he figured it'd be his trusty partner from now on. He ran a hand over it, then peered down at the empty plains below.
Perfect—no Titans in sight!
But… was that a sound beneath his feet? He traced the noise, leaning over the edge. Right then, Rein glanced up. Under the sunlight, their eyes locked—a frozen moment, like a still frame.
Five seconds later, Rein's gut dropped as it clicked.
"Damn it! Buddy! I'm on your side!" he shouted on instinct, but all that came out was garbled, mindless roars.
The kid had never seen anything like this. His legs buckled, he stumbled back, then scrambled up and bolted.
The figure vanished. Rein dangled on the wall, waiting a beat—no movement. He pieced it together: "That punk ran off scared. I've got to hurry—he might bring backup!"
Time was tight. Rein summoned his strength, picking up the pace. He had to reach the top before a squad showed up.
The system promised: get inside Wall Maria, and he'd live.
The arrow was nocked—no turning back now.
"Raaagh!"
Roaring to boost his grit, he lunged upward in a big step.
But before he could steady himself, a deafening boom rang out.
He snapped his head up—an iron ball hurtled straight at him.
"Son of a—!" With a quick dodge, it grazed his ear, screaming past to crash below, gouging a crater with a thunderous boom.
A cannon! Next to that solitary gun stood a scrawny figure. His glare was fierce, the cannon's black muzzle locked dead-on with Rein.
The kid who'd fled in terror was back! He manned the cannon, trembling hands forced steady, and fired again at the stunned Rein.
Boom!
Rein twisted aside. The shot streaked past, slamming into the sharpened stone under his right foot. It shattered, blasting a dent into Wall Maria.
Done for!
Lose one of his three stones, and he'd lose a foothold. No way to climb—his plan was toast!
So close, yet screwed!
Fury roared inside him as he glared at the frail silhouette above.
"You little bastard! I'll end you!" His rage erupted as a Pure Titan's guttural howl, tearing skyward. The reply? Another merciless cannonball.
Boom! A dead-on shot, aimed at his head.
No dodging this! The stone underfoot wobbled, the one in his grip buckled under his weight. With no hold left, Rein crashed downward.
His nimble form hit the ground with a splat—left hand first.
A jolt of numbness shot through it, sensation gone. Probably wrecked.
He hadn't even stood when the sky flared above—cannon fire roared nonstop, smoke stinging the air.
Rein rolled and scrambled, dragging his limp left arm, weaving through blast after blast.
"No way you're hitting me! I've got snake moves—"
Mid-sentence, mid-roll, he snatched a fallen stone. Twisting his waist, he swung hard, raising it high.
Time to throw!
"Die, punk!"
Fury consumed him. The stone flew from his hand.
It arced perfectly, sailing toward the lone cannon.
But his aim sucked. It missed, soaring over Wall Maria and vanishing with a whistle.
"Damn it!" Rage boiled over, murderous intent flaring. He grabbed the last stone, took rough aim, and prepped to hurl it.
To Rein, it was palm-sized. To the kid up there? It was as big as his whole body.
If this hit true, that young life was done.
Rein swung his arm wide, pouring every ounce of strength in. The stone launched, carrying death's promise toward the wall.
Then—he froze.
He saw the kid clearly now: face pale, slumped by the cannon, pants soaked.
He'd pissed himself.
Facing a snarling Titan, this first-day rookie's mind had finally cracked.
The death-bound stone grazed his sleeve as it flew past.
Its gust tousled his hair, leaving a face twisted in utter terror.
Still off by a hair!
Truth was, the kid's nerve had shattered the first time he saw Rein. Duty alone dragged him back to man the cannon, facing a Titan solo.
But that courage crumbled again before the flung stone.
For some reason, seeing this, Rein's killing urge faded. Plus, he was out of rocks.
"Forget it," he thought. "Time to run!"
The plan was bust. Better run before he drew a crowd—he might not walk away from that.
Rein turned and bolted.
Two steps in, a young, piercing shout hit his ears from behind.
"Dedicate your heart!"
He whipped around. Somehow, that kid had beaten his fear again. His limp frame stood tall, hands on the cannon, aiming at Rein once more.
"What the—! Lunatic!" Rein took off, legs pumping.
A barrage erupted behind him. Maybe the kid's hands shook—shots went wide, missing Rein. Amid the cannon blasts, he fled in a mess.
Only when he dove into the forest did the firing stop.
Silence fell. Rein collapsed, panting in the woods.
The onslaught had been brutal. Even with his agility, he'd taken hits.
Steam rose from his wounds, his torn left arm bubbling like boiling water.
They were healing on their own